Corruption Point
by Neco Solus
Summary: Tristan learns too much about the corrupted king's plans. He must find a way to escape the king's grasp and gather a force of his own strong enough to dethrone the allpowerful king of Excel. Please REVIEW
1. Chapter 1

The soft crunching of leaves beneath deliberate footsteps filled Tristan's ears as he woke. A sharp pain dominated his thoughts as he tried to open his eyes. A dull but persistent pounding kept him from thinking straight. The back of his head felt swollen and was throbbing as he tried to clear his mind.

_Where am I? What happened?_

Something was wrong with his eyes. They wouldn't open no matter how hard he tried. No, his eyes were working just fine. There was something blocking his view! A bag had been placed over his head in order to hide his face. _Hide it from what?_ Tristan quickly came to the realization that the bag was placed to hide the surroundings from his eyes. He was being taken somewhere, but where? He stayed silent for a moment, listening for something, anything, which would reveal his location. He could just barely make out the sound of three individuals. One walked on either side of himself and a third a short distance behind him. He had not stirred after waking so he was sure the strangers could not know he was now alert. He was being hauled through the forest it seemed. The men at his sides were pulling his limp body forward with purpose. Their bulging arms were placed under his armpits, causing his feet to drag in the dense underbrush.

"Are we nearly there?" the man to his left inquired in a loud whisper. Tristan heard no reply. He carefully twisted his right foot very slowly so as not to be discovered; he was feeling for his hidden blade. Though he remembered it being both tightly secured and well hidden just above his right ankle, it seemed the thin razor had been confiscated sometime during his forced slumber.

"Is this the spot?" the impatient captor to his left asked in a less-than-hushed voice.

"Quiet!" the right captor murmured.

"No one is within earshot now. We should be safe." The rear man's booming voice startled Tristan, but he remained flaccid. The voice was distinct and commanding, full of authority. "We'll finish it here."


	2. Chapter 2

Tristan was still unclear what had happened the night before that caused his current predicament. He knew he had to get the upper hand if he had any chance of figuring out what was going on.

_What are they talking about? Finish what? Me?_

The two men carrying Tristan simultaneously released their grip. Instead of falling to the ground as they assumed he would, Tristan leapt into action. With his right hand he grabbed hold of the right man's brown leather scabbard. With a firm grip on the cracked leather he twisted himself and the man completely around. While this was happening he moved his left hand swiftly to the hilt of the sheathed sword and drew it from the scabbard, placing the tip in the center of the stranger's back. Only after he completed the maneuver did he reach for the black hood that still masked his vision.

Tristan silently inspected his surroundings. Just as he had thought, two other men accompanied his hostage. "No one move!" Tristan rasped. He was surprised at how dry his throat was now that he had an opportunity to speak. The other two men had their swords drawn but were kept at bay by the threat Tristan imposed on their companion.

It was late, or early, the exact time was still unclear. Tristan stole a few quick glances, gaining no more knowledge of his surroundings than he had earlier guessed; he was in a forest. The three men in front of him all wore faded golden uniforms that bore the symbol of a lion's head across their chests. These men were imperial guards!

_What crime have I committed? Why can't I remember any of last night?_

"You can't hide behind him all day and you've got nowhere to go. What are you going to do now?" The commanding voice was familiar. This was the man who was trailing the other two. _He must be their superior_. The officer's questioning continued. "Does your disloyalty have no end? Die with what little dignity you have left!"

"Enough!" Tristan's voice regained its former weight and authority. Everyone froze, waiting to hear his demands. _All right, just relax. There is always a way out, I just have to find it. First things first. _"Where is my kwan dao?"

Pointing to Tristan's feet, the officer sighed. "Carrying that thing will only make it easier to track you when you try to run."

To his surprise, the weapon was lying at his feet as promised. His prisoner had been carrying it in his free hand and must have dropped it in the confusion of Tristan's speedy recovery. The head cover had kept him from seeing it drop when he spun the man around. The short blade he kept hidden at his ankle was hardly a loss as long as his kwan dao was intact. The base of the weapon was a spiked counterweight that could be used to strike if the need arose. Attached to the counterweight was a five-foot long wooden staff. Mounted atop the staff, a two-foot long blade rose to a point that could be used for thrust attacks. The blunt backside of the blade was designed with an indent that was used to catch and block opposing weapons. All in all, the weapon fell just short of seven feet long.

Tristan, ignoring the guard's suggestion, reclaimed his weapon. He slowly stepped backwards while keeping the guard's short sword pointed at his spine. A few steps further and he lowered his kwan dao to replace the threat of the short sword. There was now a full seven feet between himself and the nearest guard.

"I'd tell you not to follow me, but you wouldn't listen anyway. Oh, and one more thing, you won't be able to track me." With a grin, Tristan pulled the weapons tight to his body. With the sword facing down and the kwan dao facing up he bent his knees in preparation for his escape.

At that very moment an arrow soared past Tristan's ear causing his hair to bend from the breeze it created. A dull thud echoed as it drove itself into the back of the guard Tristan had been holding at bay. A fleeting wheeze escaped the man's lips before he fell to his knees and then onto his face.


	3. Chapter 3

"ELVES!" The officer bellowed. The two remaining guards turned to run when they each received arrows of their own. The smaller man was hit in the chest and the side of the neck. A gurgling sound emanated from him as he clawed at his throat for several seconds, flailing on the ground. His movements slowed and stopped as he fell silent. His superior, the officer, fell to one knee as an arrow pierced his left calf. His back now facing Tristan, a second arrow came from his front side, catching his right shoulder. An animal like scream left the man's lips as he hollered at the sky.

Against his better judgment, Tristan decided to wait and see how things would unfold. He watched on in silence as three elves emerged, seemingly out of nowhere. Two came from behind and a third from directly in front where the officer was still facing, panting heavily in obvious pain. The elves were wearing leathers and leaves that had been expertly sewn together to create a superfluous camouflage. They carried full quivers on their backs and held ornate Elvin longbows at their sides.

The third elf stood in front of the kneeling officer. His audible whimpers had no visible effect on the coldhearted elf.

"State your name" the elf ordered in a detached tone.

"Sir Lauder" the officer said before spitting blood off to the side.

The gesture seemed to disgust the elf. His eyes narrowed as he leaned his face closer to Sir Lauder's. "And what business does a knight of the kingdom of Excel have in the forest of Languin?"

"We were only here to execute a prisoner and…"

His words were cut short as the elf grabbed hold of the arrow sticking out from his shoulder. The elf raised his left foot and placed it hard against Lauder's chest. Now the two were face to face. "I did not ask what you were doing. Your intentions were quite obvious. I asked what business you have entering this forest. Executions can be carried out within the walls of Excel. Why venture so far from home? Does the evil within this man run so deep that you fear his blood will taint your land; or did you think defiling our forest would be amusing?"

"If you kill me the king will seek revenge."

The elf's eyes lit with a fury and a snarl grew across his face. Clutching the arrow, he pushed against Lauder's chest with his boot, pulling the arrow free. Shrieking like a banshee, Lauder fell backwards onto the dirt. Thin tears began streaming down his cheeks. Loose meat hung from the bloodied arrow's head. "Tempt me again and I will gut you where you lie!" The elf no longer held back his true emotions. "Why did you bring this mortal here to be killed?"

Still sobbing, Lauder slowly choked out his reply. "King Haroc asked for discretion. He asked for secrecy. That traitor committed treason against the king himself. The execution was to remain unknown to the citizens of Excel."

Regaining his composure, the elf 's voice became monotonous again. "Why?"

"The king asked it be handled this way."

Grabbing Lauder by the collar, the elf lifted him to his knees once again. Circling the bleeding man the elf stepped cruelly on his leg, just below the knee and above the lodged arrow. Grabbing the wooden shaft of the arrow he raised his voice once again. "Why!"

Tristan leaned forward; he too wanted to know why. Lauder's words seemed familiar, but like those from a dream. Treason was a serious crime. One which he did not remember committing.

"I don't know! I swear! Please, no more!"

The elf considered his words for a moment and sighed softly. "You will warn young Haroc to never enter this forest without permission. Yes?"

"Yes, of course. But… what of the prisoner?"

"He is no longer your concern. He stands in Languin forest and is therefore not subject to Haroc's laws."

"Haroc will try to follow…"

In one swift motion the arrow was pulled free from the wounded leg. Another series of obscenities escaped the knight's mouth.

"I said he is no longer your concern."


	4. Chapter 4

Lauder crawled to the nearest tree and began to search the ground around him. After a moment he reached for a stick large enough to lean on without it breaking. Pushing against the tree and the stick, he slowly lifted himself to his feet. He turned back toward Tristan. A small grin grew across his tear stained face.

_Leaving him with the elves… Ha! He's as good as dead._

Tristan felt a shiver crawl through his spine as Lauder's devilish smile grew. Something about that grin was unsettling.

As Lauder hobbled away with the help of his walking stick, Tristan turned his attention toward the elves. Tristan had never dealt directly with elves. He had heard tales of their untamed violence. Few strayed from their homes within the forest. Those that did leave were unwelcome to return. Their lawless actions were no secret. Elves swore allegiance only to each other and their queens. Rumored to be the most powerful sorceresses in the world, elf queens were a force to be reckoned with. Tristan stood before three of these mysterious creatures.

"Thank you friend" Tristan cautiously offered. "My name is Tristan. Please, tell me; to whom do I owe this great honor?"

The elf turned his stony gaze on Tristan. "Do not speak unless you are first addressed, slave."

"Slave?"

"Are all humans slow to learn?" The elf sighed before beginning again. "My name is Parthius; but you will call me master until your life-debt is paid."

"You think you saved my life? Do you not see that I have not only reclaimed my own weapon but taken the guard's as well?"

"A fancy trick, but one that would not have saved you. Lauder spoke the truth when he said you have nowhere to go. If they had not tracked and killed you, I would have."

"Listen, elf! I appreciate your help, but I can hold my own."

"Silence! You humans never understand. I did not save you from that impudent fool and his men. I have saved your life by choosing not to kill you. Thus, you owe your life to me."

"You pretentious bastard! What makes you so sure I have not already returned the favor by sparing your life?"

Tilting his head back slightly, Parthius took a deep breath. "Give him a warning shot!" As his lips finished forming the last word, two arrows descended on Tristan. The arrows plunged themselves into the earth directly in front of his feet, each within an inch of his toes. "You see? We would have staked you to the ground before you ever had the chance to run." It was clear to Parthius that Tristan was beginning to fully grasp his current situation. "Now", he began again, "I will give you to my daughter as a gift. She came of age recently and I think she would fancy having a slave of her own." Addressing the other elves now, Parthius spoke elvish, a language Tristan had never heard.

The two other elves quickly moved toward Tristan. Seeing no way out of his predicament Tristan allowed himself to be blindfolded. Next, the elves disarmed him. He hated having his kwan dao taken away so soon, but swore to himself and the blade that he would wield it before long.

With two elves pulling at his sides and Parthius following close behind, Tristan found himself chuckle aloud as his current situation became all too familiar.


	5. Chapter 5

Tristan had been marching for more than one half hour when he was abruptly directed to stop. He could hear Parthius drawing near him from behind. He had already contemplated his escape and ultimately decided it would have to wait until he was under the care of the younger, less experienced, elf daughter.

"This won't be necessary any longer," Parthius said, removing the smooth Elvin rope that bound Tristan's hands behind his back. The intricate knot was slowly unwound. "We cannot take any more risks past this point. I'm sure you understand."

Tristan did not understand at all. No sooner had he opened his mouth to question Parthius when he received a fierce blow to the back of his head. The elves slowly lowered his body as he fell limp to the forest floor. Parthius handed the rope to the nearest elf as he returned the sap to its place. He began knotting the rope around Tristan's ankles. After this task was complete the three men stopped for a short rest. After a few minutes had passed and all had refreshed themselves Parthius signaled for the other two to continue.

Parthius stood alone for several more minutes. He looked toward the rising sun, which was barely visible through the dense underbrush. Though he had watched the sunrise nearly ever day for as long as he could remember there was still something he found spectacular about the golden globe. His thoughts were interrupted when two of his other scouts appeared from the direction he had just come.

"The path is clear sir. Even you would have a hard time finding any tracks now."

"You underestimate me. Ha!" Parthius laughed and signaled for the two scouts to continue ahead. "Our tracks are hidden well enough. Besides, no one would try to track us anyway."

_Not even young King Haroc would make that mistake._

Sir Lauder had arrived back at the castle a short time early. He was spotted walking alone and was quickly picked up by a small patrol of horse riders. His orders were to report immediately and directly to King Haroc. His wounds would be attended to later, the King demanded an audience before he saw anyone else. Standing before the King, Lauder couldn't help but be distracted by his two very serious wounds. He had not allowed himself so much as a drink to help sooth the pain. He wanted to remember every second of it so he could return it in full when next he met that hideous elf.

"So, what I'm hearing is that you did not kill Tristan, is that correct?" Haroc spat the words at Lauder. Lauder could feel the shame beginning to show in his face. It wasn't that young Haroc was intimidating. Lauder was simply unaccustomed to returning from a mission that had failed.

"Yes, your majesty. You heard correct. The elf also sent a warning." Lauder regretted saying the words as soon as they left his mouth. Haroc stopped pacing the floor in front of Lauder. He turned now to face him. He stood a full foot higher than Lauder. He was hoping this would intimidate but his charade was transparent to a seasoned vet such as Lauder. The steps raised him higher now, but on level ground Lauder was nearly a half foot taller than Haroc. The new king was in his early twenties and had only recently discovered all the perks there were to being a king. His youthful face showed more and more of greed as he learned what true power was with each passing day.

"Oh really? Tell me, what did the creature have to say?" Haroc barely feigned interest.

"He said you were no longer permitted to enter the forest unless you first asked permission from the elves." Lauder lost interest in Haroc's reaction as a new wave of pain washed over his body.

Remaining calm but increasingly annoyed Haroc confronted Lauder. "You will go with a group of your finest. I want no less than one hundred men scouring that forest. Find and kill Tristan. Deal with the elves however you see fit."

"Sir?" Confused now, Lauder was unsure if his blood loss had caused him temporary hearing loss. "You want for me to go back and retrieve Tristan?"

"Not retrieve. Kill! You must finish what you started. Return with absolute certainty that Tristan no longer draws breathe, or do not return at all." Ignoring the confused look, Haroc examined the floor beneath Lauder. "And for God's sakes get yourself patched up, you're bleeding all over my court. Dismissed"

Leaving Lauder with his mouth still agape, Haroc removed himself to his quarters.


	6. Chapter 6

"Every king must have one person… a person who is more concerned for their king's wellbeing than their own safety. They must be willing to put their life on the line. Therefore, they must also be an adept fighter. Devotion and skill are not enough to become a protectorate. The king's personal guard must also display wisdom beyond their age. The protectorate doubles as an advisor. In some ways the protectorate's abilities may surpass those of the king himself. Do not let this get to your head! The king has unquestioning authority and that is something the protectorate will never have. All should envy their king but none should envy the protectorate. As the king's advisor many will be jealous of the protectorate. As his personal guard he will see little action and will still be considered the best fighter in the kingdom. This too will cause blood to boil. No one should seek to become a protectorate. Yet, here I lay… a withered image of my former self. Asking for you, Tristan, to do precisely that. Tristan, do you accept my offer? Will you be prince Haroc's protectorate when my eyes go dark and my skin turns cold? Will you? Tristan? Tristan…"

"Tristan…. Wake up!"

Slowly opening his eyes Tristan could make out the blurry image of Parthius standing before him with arms crossed. Rising to his knees, a rush of pain quickly slapped Tristan in the back of his head where he had been attacked by the Parthius's sap.

"Here," Parthius's hand extended forward with a tiny wooden cup, "this will subdue the pain."

Grudgingly, Tristan reached for the miniature cup.

"Allow me to explain" Parthius began as Tristan came to the realization that his hands were tied behind his back. "You were unconscious for the better part of your initial journey into our forest. Next, we allowed you to carry yourself for the better part of an hour. I could not risk you finding your own way out so I was forced to knock you out for the latter part of the hike." Parthius had been pacing in front of Tristan. Now, stopping, he turned to face Tristan. "So you see, you have no idea which direction you were taken and for how long you traveled.

On instinct Tristan looked up to the sky. The sun was hovered almost directly above him. Seeing this, Parthius lost his smile.

"Well at least my daughter won't have a fool for a slave. You may know what time it is now but I doubt you remember when you left Excel. Even if you do, the direction you traveled after I knocked you out is a mystery to you. We covered our tracks so no one could follow us and so that you would not be able to find your way out." Leaning in close, Parthius looked into Tristan's eyes. Raising his silvered eyebrows he searched for understanding. "What I'm trying to tell you is that escape is futile. You would be killed long before you reached the forest's edge."

Circling Tristan, Parthius set the small cup on a table and untied Tristan's hands. The rope left no sores on Tristan's wrist as he expected, instead he almost missed its touch. Rising Tristan turned and reached for the cup. Drinking greedily Tristan instantly felt the pain in his head subsiding. "So what now?" Tristan asked.

"You're welcome for the tonic."

Tristan set the cup down and continued to stare at Parthius, waiting for an answer.

"Allowing a slave to drink potions is unheard of, especially from one of our own cups."

Tristan's unrelenting stare began to make Parthius feel somewhat uneasy.

"Right, straight to business then. Let me ask you Tristan, have you ever heard the term protectorate?"


End file.
